Promise Not to Try
by celeste9
Summary: The third time James was forced to admit that something was going on. Three times made a pattern. Lester/Becker


**A/N: **Title is from "Promise" by Eve 6. Becker is called Hilary because I have heard that is his actual name. Lester having a family is ignored mostly because I was lazy. Spoilers through 4x4.

_**Promise Not to Try**_

The first time it happened, James blamed it on stress and heightened emotion. Sarah was dead; Danny, Connor, and Abby were missing; the Minister was furious at what he termed the ARC's "lack of progress".

It was after hours, the hallways of the ARC nearly deserted. From within his office, James could see Becker approaching. James was surprised Becker was even still in the building- it wasn't unusual for James himself to remain at the ARC until long past dark, but it was more so for Becker.

"Don't you have someplace to be, Becker? It may have been presumptuous of me to assume that you have a life, but I suppose one can't be perfect."

A muscle twitched in Becker's jaw before he spoke. "I noticed you're still here."

"It may surprise you, but I actually have quite a lot of work to do. You, on the other hand, appear to be wandering the corridors aimlessly."

"I have a lot on my mind."

"Of course."

Becker took a step forward. "Fuck you, Lester," he said and James had to admit he wasn't that surprised to hear it. Becker had been edging towards an outburst for days now and James supposed it was only fair that he be on the receiving end of it. It seemed to be his lot in life, being shouted at.

"I could have you fired for that," James said mildly.

"Go on then," Becker said, raising his arms out to the side. "I've clearly failed in what you hired me to do. Cutter and Sarah are dead, Danny and Abby and Connor gone. Even Jenny nearly died, all on my watch. Some Head of Security I turned out to be."

"Oh, do stop being so melodramatic."

"Melodramatic? You think I'm being melodramatic? They're dead, Lester! They're dead. Do you even care?"

James refused to allow himself to be baited by the soldier, but he raised his voice without even realising it. "Whether I care or not is immaterial. I am well aware that people, good people, have died here, but I haven't allowed myself to develop an inflated sense of my own importance because of it!"

They were standing nose-to-nose by this point and Becker appeared as though he were one wrong move away from punching James in the face. "They were my responsibility! The only fucking thing I have to do around here is keep people safe and I can't even do that properly. And Sarah-" Becker bit back what he had been about to say, taking a moment to breathe before he went on. "You just sit here, in your fucking office, like this is your- your kingdom, and you have no idea what it's like. To be up against those creatures, to be working with someone and then..."

"You arrogant sod," James hissed. "_You_ have no idea. How dare you assume you know anything about me!"

Looking back on it, James isn't sure how exactly it happened or who started it. It was ridiculous, really, like something out of a bad movie. It was certainly not the sort of thing that happened to James Lester. One moment they were shouting and the next they were kissing, teeth clashing together with the force of it, sucking at each other's mouths as though it were a contest and they needed to determine who the winner was. Becker's hands were clutching at the back of James' expensive suit, probably wrinkling it beyond repair.

As Becker slammed James back against the wall, James spared a brief thought to think about the fact that the ARC was not, in fact, completely empty, and his office was not an enclosed area designed to hide clandestine, inappropriate couplings of coworkers. But with Becker shoving aside James' collar to bite at his neck, James really couldn't be arsed to care about that.

James flipped their positions, wedging his leg up between Becker's thighs until the other man moaned, head banging against the wall. James shoved Becker's dark shirt up and bent to lick his way up the expanse of skin.

Becker fumbled at the zip of James' trousers, forcing his hand inside. James moaned deep in his throat when Becker's large hand closed around his erection. Becker walked them forwards until the backs of James' thighs hit the edge of his desk. They managed to knock most of the contents to the floor and Becker pushed James down.

They rutted against each other on the desk like a couple of horny teenagers, James running his hands over Becker's sides, Becker kissing James' jaw. James pulled Becker's mouth back onto his, because if they were going to do it in the office they were at least going to be quiet about it, and they swallowed each other's groans when they came.

Becker collapsed on top of James, sweaty and still mostly clothed. James waited till he had caught his breath and then said, "Do you think you can manage to get off me now? Damn, you're heavy."

Becker rolled to the side and found his feet, straightening up, grinning smugly. "Don't worry, Lester. It's all muscle."

James raised himself up, eyeing Becker as he tugged his shirt down and tucked himself back into his trousers. "I've no doubt." He looked down at himself, frowning. "It appears you've ruined my suit."

Still wearing that shit-eating grin, Becker shrugged unapologetically. "I imagine it was worth it."

"You've a rather high opinion of yourself, don't you, Becker," James said as he attempted to make himself at least presentable enough to head to the locker room for his spare suit, using his handkerchief to wipe himself off. He eyed it distastefully before throwing it in the bin. "I suppose there's no need to tell you that if you speak of this to anyone I'll have you killed and your body thrown into the Thames."

Becker laughed. "Who would I even tell, my men? 'Hey, guys, last night? Lester and I shagged on his desk.' They'd think it was a joke."

"Yes, well, see that it stays that way." James glared at the mess of his desk, hoping nothing had broken and wondering whether he could come up with a suitable excuse or whether he would have to clean up the damned thing himself. While he was thinking about it, Becker leaned down and started to pick up the papers on the floor. James stared at him in surprise.

"Least I can do," Becker said, and James found himself thinking that if he were going to have a random sexual encounter with anyone in his employ, perhaps Becker was a good choice.

* * *

James did not like to spend much time thinking on the past or on analysing his actions. As far as he was concerned, what was done was done and there was no point agonising over it. Yes, he had had sex with Becker, but that was the end of it. It had been more enjoyable than he would have expected (had he ever thought about it in the first place, which he certainly had not) and an excellent distraction, but it wasn't going to happen again. However, even if James had been given to excessive brooding on past events, he would have had no time for it. The next few days were consumed by meetings and unpleasant phone calls, culminating in the Minister's extremely poor (in James' opinion, which should hold more weight than it apparently did) decision to suspend the ARC.

Unexpectedly, though perhaps it should not have been, before James had even arranged to inform the staff that they would all need to seek employment elsewhere, Becker handed in his resignation. There was no point in asking him to reconsider of course, given the Minister's decision. James somehow knew as well that anything he could say was unlikely to sway Becker once his mind was made up.

But he was disappointed. He couldn't say exactly why, but he was.

* * *

When they asked James to come work at the new ARC, without even thinking about it, he told them he would return only if Becker did as well. He told himself that it was only practical, that it was the proper decision. After all, Becker was good at his job and James only worked with the best. He could trust Becker, and that was not something to be taken lightly.

It was purely professional. James had no particular attachment to Becker and he would never base a work-related decision on emotion anyway.

* * *

There were a lot of things James was not exactly pleased with concerning the new arrangement at the ARC, but he did have to admit that the new facilities were excellent. James might not like having to answer to Philip Burton, but collaborating with the man proved to have its advantages.

As James left his office and walked into the center of the ARC, he started briefly when he saw Becker there with Jess Parker. This shouldn't have caught him off-guard; he had been expecting Becker, after all, but it had been weeks now where the sight of another human being besides Jess had been a surprise, so he supposed his reaction could be allowed.

They made for an odd pair; Becker seeming to loom over Jess' slight frame, Becker in his customary black combat gear and Jess in her bright colors, her skirt a little too short and her heels a little too high for the workplace in James' opinion. Perhaps he should have someone speak to her about it. Coming from James, she might take it the wrong way.

Jess was talking animatedly, while Becker's expression was caught somewhere between bewildered and bemused. The girl had a bit of Connor about her, in the way that she never seemed to know when to stop talking. James drew nearer and cleared his throat, gaining the attention of Becker and Jess. "Becker," he said.

"They told me you asked for me specifically, Lester," Becker said, his eyes dancing with amusement. "I'm touched, I truly am. I didn't know you cared."

"Your ego astounds me, Becker. I simply didn't want to bother with anyone new when I already had you hanging around. There are quite enough inexperienced twits around this place for me to deal with." James lowered his gaze to Jess, mouth half open as though she were about to protest, twin spots of color rising in her cheeks. "Not you, of course, Jess," James added, though he had yet to form an actual decision about her.

The girl nodded, seemingly mollified. "I've shown him Matt Anderson's CV, like you asked."

James nodded. "Thoughts?"

Becker glanced at Jess. "He's impressive, I guess."

"You guess?"

Becker rolled his eyes. "Yes, alright, he seems perfect. But honestly, Lester, I know you don't care what I think. You're going to hire whomever you want, so you might as well drop the charade."

Jess' lips twitched as she fought to conceal a smile and James tried to recall why exactly he had requested this man. "Thank you for your input, as always, Captain Becker. It's so good to have you back," he said dryly, and left with as much dignity as he could muster. He heard Jess' tittering laughter behind him and resisted the urge to sigh.

* * *

The second time was an accident.

It was purely chance that James entered the locker room of the ARC only to find Becker, clearly having just finished a workout, ratty tank top damp with sweat. As he pulled it over his head, firm muscles flexing, revealing the smooth skin of his back, James cleared his throat.

Becker turned, tossing the shirt to the floor. "Lester. What brings you here?"

James kept his eyes fixed on Becker's face. That was locker room etiquette, wasn't it? Do not look at anyone else's bare skin, no matter how enticing it may be. "I was on my way home, actually."

Becker shifted his hips (not that James was looking), watching James appraisingly. "You know, I've always found that there's nothing quite like a good workout to get me in the mood for a shag. Got time for a quickie before you go?"

It was only his years of practice at controlling his reactions that enabled James to hold onto his outward impassivity. But he did now allow himself a long look over Becker's form, lingering on the flat abs, a bead of sweat that dripped down his chest. Really James should have been disgusted at the state Becker was in, disgusted at the thought of touching him while he was sweaty and no doubt smelled appalling. Really he should have been disgusted. "Alright then," he said, and started to remove his jacket.

* * *

James stayed late the night Matt took control of his new team. He told himself that it was only because he had so much paperwork to get through and had nothing at all to do with the fact that this was actually happening- the ARC was moving forward, Matt instead of Danny, no Connor and no Abby, Sarah long dead.

He couldn't even convince himself.

Though James considered himself a professional above all else, he had wanted to resent Matt Anderson for not being Nick Cutter, for not being Danny Quinn. Matt with his perfect CV, with his ridiculous qualifications. But today Matt had done everything right, including the way he talked to the team.

At the sound of a knock against his office door, James looked up. Becker leaned just inside the door, holding up a mostly full bottle of what looked like whiskey. "Thought you might like a drink," he said.

James tried to feel surprised but he simply wasn't. He waved Becker in. "You keep that in the ARC?"

"I've found that this is the sort of job that warrants keeping alcohol on the premises." Becker cleared a space on the desk and perched on it, pouring generously into two glasses. James considered telling him to move his arse elsewhere, but then decided it would be easier for everyone involved should the bottle be able to stay in close proximity.

"Cheers," James said, raising his glass, and swallowed a mouthful, enjoying the burn as the liquid made its way down his throat.

Becker rested his own glass on his thigh. "So," he said. "Matt. Seems alright."

"With what he's getting paid, he'd better be."

Lips twitching, Becker stared down at his drink. He was silent for a long while. "What he said, though, about Danny and the others. Do you think he's right? After all this time, do you really think they could still be okay, they could still come back?" Becker raised his face to James, an oddly vulnerable expression in his eyes.

James took another drink. _Yes. _"I think there's no use thinking about it. There's nothing more we can do."

Fingers clenching around the glass, Becker shook his head, gulping back nearly half the contents before he spoke. "You always do that. Things are so cut and dry for you, aren't they? The things you can change and the things you can't, and to hell with emotion."

"Until recently, I'd rather thought you were the same, Becker. Someone tells you what to do, you do it. No silly rehashing of would-haves, could-haves, and should-haves, and certainly no ridiculous conversations about how you feel about it."

"They were my _friends. _I cared about them and I thought you did as well."

The silence stretched out between them, broken only by the sounds of whiskey pouring and James' glass being set back onto the desk. Finally James said, "They had their moments, I suppose."

Becker's mouth curved into a smile that James was gladdened to see. "They certainly did."

* * *

The third time James was forced to admit that something was going on. Three times made a pattern.

Admitting the pattern existed was simple. Deciphering what the pattern meant was more complicated.

* * *

They developed a sort of routine. Becker liked to have sex on the days an anomaly appeared, the more dangerous the outing, the rougher the sex. In the shower James would find bruises that wouldn't fade for days, bite marks across his collarbone and scratches on his back.

James liked to have sex after meetings with Burton. The man never failed to be aggravating and James had found there wasn't anything quite like fucking Becker to get his mind off it. He supposed that was the way the whole thing had started anyway, a way to relieve stress and pent-up emotion, so it was only fair he got to have Becker when he was tense.

Unspoken though they may have been, there were a few rules to these encounters. Most importantly, no one could ever find out. In addition, they kept it to the ARC and they didn't talk about it. No discussions of feelings or mention of the dreaded "r" word.

It shouldn't have worked. Most of the time James wasn't sure that Becker even liked him- had been fairly certain, in fact, that Becker _didn't _like him. They weren't friends and James doubted if it would have been possible for two people to be more different. It was also risky. It was an imbalance of power and a conflict of interest and it was the sort of thing that James would never have dreamed he would be a part of.

It was the sort of the thing that James would have put a stop to if it had been him on the outside looking in.

Yet somehow it didn't matter. They had found common ground in this one thing, this thing that they couldn't put a name to, and somehow it was enough.

* * *

James felt his mobile buzz against his thigh and barely managed to keep from starting. He surreptitiously slid it out of his pocket to read the message.

_Shouldn't having sex with the boss be enough to get me out of meetings like this? _

James glared down at the screen, but the text remained there, mocking him, unfortunately not disappearing and revealing itself to be a figment of James' imagination. He darted a quick glance over at Becker on the other side of the room, but to all intents and purposes, the man was completely absorbed in the budget presentation.

He wanted to ignore it. He should ignore it.

_Careful, Becker, you might make me think you're whoring yourself out for favors._

From the corner of his eye James watched for Becker's reaction. If he hadn't been looking carefully, he might have missed the slight quirk of Becker's lips.

The reply was swift. _I'd worry more if there had actually been any favors received. Still waiting on that front._

_Now, now, I can't be offering you any special treatment. That would be unprofessional._

_Because it's so professional when I've got your cock in my mouth in the supply closet._

James nearly dropped the mobile. That had only happened the once! Supply closets were so cliché. He tapped out his response with a bit more force than was necessary. _Let's please pay attention now to this essential presentation before we devolve into teenagers sending sexual messages to each other, shall we?_

_If you insist, but I expect you to make it up to me later._

If James spent the remainder of the meeting in a flush of impatience borne from more than his usual boredom at such things, well, no one else was the wiser.

* * *

All things considered, James found that he was rather pleased with the strange, unexpected arrangement he had with Becker. Certainly he was having sex more regularly than he had in years, and that was not something to be taken lightly. Fairly fantastic sex at that, though they had yet to engage in actual intercourse and James was unsure whether that was even on the table.

Perhaps the most surprising aspect of it all was the extent to which James realised he enjoyed spending time with Becker. To be honest, James had never given the man much thought before, but he had a sense of humor that James could appreciate (though he didn't appreciate the fact that this sense of humor was often displayed at James' own expense).

The best thing about Becker was that he knew how to keep his mouth shut. He didn't press James for conversation nor did he prattle on constantly. That being said, they did talk, more than James would have expected. There was an ease to his dealings with Becker and James rather liked being around him. Not that he would ever admit to it- Becker was a smug bastard as it was.

James still didn't know that he would call them friends. That was entirely the wrong word to use, but they were something more than they had been.

The problem was that Becker had a tendency to take liberties with their increased familiarity. The aforementioned sense of humor was the most evident- though James knew he had never been exempt, per se, from Becker's sarcasm, it had rarely been to his face. James' half-serious remark to leave the jokes to him at their first meeting was a thing long in the past.

This irreverence manifested itself in other ways as well. For example, James now entered his office only to find Becker lounging behind the desk as though the name on the door said '_Becker'_. "Get out of my chair, Becker," James said.

When Becker made no move to comply- acting, in fact, as though James had not said a word- James raised his eyes to the ceiling. It was moments like this that made him ponder the direction his life had taken, all the choices he could have made, and yet he was stuck with the ARC and all of its insufferable employees. To think he had once believed the scientists were the worst of the lot.

"I don't like Matt's obsession with non-lethal weapons," Becker said.

Well, at least the man had a purpose for being there other than tormenting James. "I have to admit we haven't seemed to have had much luck with them in the past. However, he assures me he has truly state-of-the-art models coming in."

"That's good enough for you? Matt says he'll get some high-tech stun guns and you say okay?"

"I know this may come as a surprise to you, but I do trust Matt's judgment in such matters. Until he proves himself to be an imbecile, which seems highly unlikely at this point, then I defer to his expertise."

Becker sighed, rubbing his temples wearily. "It's my job to protect people and I just can't feel comfortable doing that if I am forced to rely solely on tranqs."

James could understand the sentiment and had a fair idea of what motivated Becker to feel that way, but he wasn't in the habit of mollycoddling his employees. "I trust you to do your job, Becker, and you're going to have to trust Matt to do his." He quirked an eyebrow. "I'm afraid you're simply going to have let go of your unhealthy obsession with your guns. Now get the hell out of my chair before someone sees you. I have an image to maintain."

* * *

Halfway through a lecture, James became convinced that Becker was not paying the least bit of attention to him. It wouldn't have been the first time, but typically Becker was good at maintaining the illusion that he was listening, even when he wasn't. It was a trait the man shared with his predecessor, Captain Ryan, James recalled- that ability to nod intently at the proper intervals, to keep a focused gaze, but there would be something about the eyes that gave James the impression that the mind was somewhere else entirely.

Now, however, Becker wasn't even trying. It was insulting.

"Am I boring you, Captain? Have you got some pressing business that's more important than what I have to say?"

"Would you like an honest answer to that?"

James pinched the bridge of his nose. Oh, to hell with it. "Yes?"

Becker's face spread into an easy, slow smile. "I'm afraid I was distracted by the thought of your mouth doing something far more interesting than berating me."

"For Christ's sake, Becker," James said wearily. "How old are you? Fifteen?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, James, if I offended your delicate sensibilities," Becker said, not sounding sorry at all, "but I thought we could just skip the shouting and head straight to the sex that we both know is coming."

Becker perhaps had a point, but there was something James simply could not ignore. "What makes you think you can call me James?"

"It is your name, isn't it? Seeing as we've been shagging for months now, I thought it might be time to move on to first names."

"Hmm. I'm not quite sure you've earned that right, yet. But if you like, I'll call you Hilary."

Becker froze. "You wouldn't."

"I think you'll find that there are very few things I wouldn't do. In fact, I may even call you Hilary in public."

Becker seemed struck speechless by this pronouncement and he simply stared at James, eyes wide. Finally he said, "If you do, I won't ever have sex with you again."

James made a tutting sound. "Really, Becker, is that the best you can do? I'm afraid that's an idle threat when I know very well that you would miss our little trysts terribly."

"You seem very certain of that," Becker said, his mouth forming into a pout that James certainly did not find disarmingly attractive in the slightest.

"Please," James sniffed, as if it was hardly worth dignifying with a response. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips and he watched the way Becker tracked the movement. James moved so that he would have been pressed full-length against Becker, but for the fact he held himself back from touching, and he blew gently against the sensitive skin below Becker's ear, enjoying the way Becker's breath caught.

Abruptly James stepped away, taking note of how Becker's eyes were closed, his body coiled tight with suppressed energy. "You're an utter bastard, Lester," Becker said, his eyes barely open to slits.

James smirked. "I should very much hope so."

* * *

Becker was a bad influence. That was the only possible explanation as to why James currently found himself in a bathroom stall in the ARC, trying desperately not to touch the no doubt germ-ridden wall, while Becker was on his knees doing his damnedest to make James lose control.

James' hands were clenched in the short strands of Becker's soft, dark hair and he made the mistake of glancing down. Becker looked up through his eyelashes, wet mouth stretched wide, and James cried out, knees going weak until he leaned back against the wall. Becker swallowed and pulled off, wiping his mouth as he stood up and then pressed his lips to James in a long, lingering kiss, letting James taste himself in Becker's mouth. It was the sort of thing James had never cared for much until he met Becker, had found vaguely distasteful, but now found he rather liked.

James reached a hand between them to stroke Becker's erection, pumping him quickly. Becker never took long after he'd used his mouth on James. He seemed to get off on it.

While Becker slumped bonelessly against James, James discreetly wiped his hand off on the inside of Becker's black trousers, then shoved him away so he could get out of the stall. Becker braced one shoulder against the wall as he watched James straighten himself up. James brushed off his suit jacket with disgust. "I can't believe I agreed to this. There is nothing worse than a public bathroom."

Becker's eyes crinkled in amusement. "This is why you need me, Lester. You have no sense of adventure."

James pulled out his comb to reorder his hair. "Running a secret operation in an attempt to keep England safe from dinosaurs is quite enough of an adventure for me." He exited with the sound of Becker's laughter in his ears, the image of Becker standing there with his trousers undone and hair rumpled enough to get him through the rest of the day feeling warm and unbothered by any of the day's stresses.

When James met a man in the hallway outside the bathroom, he said, "Oh, I wouldn't go in there if I were you. I was just about to call maintenance, the whole place is backed up. Very foul."

As the man hurried away, a look of revulsion on his face, James allowed himself a small smile.

* * *

The day Connor and Abby returned, James hadn't expected that he would see Becker. Yes, there had been an anomaly, and they'd had somewhat of a rough time with it, and Burton had thrown his weight around unpleasantly, but it was simply difficult to be anything but happy with Connor and Abby back. James knew that if his own mood was so light, then certainly Becker's would be.

Despite that, James rather thought he would like to find Becker anyway.

It was simply that Becker would _understand. _Not that James wanted to talk, per se, but it would be nice to be around someone who could fully comprehend exactly what had happened, what they had been through for the past year. What it meant that Danny was not with them.

Becker was just closing the door of his locker clearly having finished changing into his civvies, when James arrived. He leaned one shoulder against the lockers when he saw James, a smile hovering on his mouth. James walked briskly to his own, seldom used, locker, rummaging in it as though he were looking for something.

Judging by Becker's expression, he was not fooled in the slightest. "Jess had some interesting things to tell me while you were debriefing Connor and Abby."

"I'm sure I haven't the slightest idea what you're referring to."

"She told me that she has never seen you more open and honest than in the moment you learned Connor and Abby were back. She said you tried to steal her comm just so you could talk to them yourself and make sure they were okay."

James took his time in turning around from where he was still facing his locker, ensuring his expression would be neutral, detesting the fact that Becker would no doubt be wearing that irritating smirk of his. "Jess has a tendency to exaggerate."

"She thought it was cute."

James took a step forward. "I am not _cute_," he said, loathing even the feel of the word on his tongue.

Becker met him halfway, hands rubbing his shoulders in what he most likely meant to be a placating manner but came across to James as condescending. It was too much of a bother to pull away, however, so James allowed him to continue. "When I saw them," Becker said, his voice low as though he were imparting secrets, "I thought I was dreaming. I've dreamt it so many times since they left, and then I'd wake up and know it was a lie. And then there they were, real as life."

Though he wanted very much to make a smart remark and be done with it, James couldn't, not with Becker standing there so freely and so openly, wanting only to know that James felt it too. And he did. God, but he did. "I was- relieved," James admitted, and it was easier than he had thought it would be. "It's been such a long time since I told myself to stop hoping and just let things be, but I could never-" He stopped and moistened his lips. "I was happy to see them."

Tugging on James' braces, Becker pulled James closer, lips meeting in a wet slide. They kissed languorously, licking each other's mouths open. With no real sense of urgency, they moved to a darkened, empty lab and locked themselves in. They fucked slow and leisurely, Becker's hand closing about both their erections. When they had finished, James tightened his arms around Becker's back, listening to his breathing even out against James' ear.

* * *

"Lester," Connor called, and the sound of his voice was still such a new sensation that James could never quite reach the same level of exasperation that had always accompanied any dealings with Connor in the past. He raised an eyebrow and waited for Connor to say his piece. "I was just wondering, what happened to Sid and Nancy? Because they're not with the other creatures, and I thought- Do you know what happened?"

"I imagine they're currently destroying something in my flat."

Connor gaped, his mouth falling open in that fish impression he was wont to do. "What? You mean you- you kept Sid and Nancy? That's brilliant! See, I told you they'd grow on you." After a beat, he said, "Do you think maybe I could come by and see them sometime? If you don't mind?"

James pretended to take time to consider it and affected a long-suffering sigh for effect. "I suppose that would be alright."

James was treated to one of Connor's blinding smiles, the kind that lit up his whole face, and James was embarrassed to realise how much he had missed seeing them. He walked away before Connor could launch into any potentially awkward displays of thanks, but found Becker waiting outside his office, slouching casually against the wall with one of those aggravating, knowing half-smirks of his. James pushed past him into his office without acknowledging him, but he knew Becker would follow him anyway.

"I do believe I have just witnessed a moment of you being nice to Connor."

"Was there something you wanted, Becker?"

He shrugged. "Not particularly. I'm simply making note of this rare occurrence and filing it away for further contemplation." Becker leaned in across James' desk, close enough for James to smell a hint of the aftershave he always used. James might have edged forward a little himself. "You know, James, I am starting to become convinced that behind that prickly exterior you try to maintain, you are really quite fond of us all."

"You know, Hilary," James mimicked, "I am starting to become convinced that there's a reason you became a soldier. Perhaps you should leave the thinking to your betters."

Becker just laughed, pushing ever so lightly forward so that the fringe of his hair brushed against James' face, so light James could even have imagined it, before leaving.

* * *

Caught up as he had been in Abby's crusade to save the creatures and Burton's desire to destroy them, James had quite fallen out of the loop as to what was going on with the anomaly. It wasn't until he thought to ask Jess why she'd sent out the medics that he found out what had happened.

"It's Becker," she said, face tight with concern. "He was bitten."

James felt something clench at his insides. "Is he alright?"

"I don't know yet. Matt was able to stop the poison spreading too quickly, but Connor said his pulse was terribly faint. I'm still waiting to hear from the medics."

James rested a hand on Jess's thin shoulder. "I wouldn't worry," he said, his voice betraying none of the anxiety he himself was feeling. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

But James waited there at Jess' station until the medics apprised them of Becker's current condition and certain recovery, and then he finally returned to his office. If he found it hard to concentrate on anything properly, well, it was only the natural concern he would have felt for any colleague. Becker would be damned difficult to replace.

He would be fine, though. The medic had assured them. Even so, James thought that he would quite like to see Becker for himself, just to be sure. It couldn't hurt and there was nothing wrong with showing a little professional concern.

James heard voices as approached the lockers, Jess' high voice and Becker's deeper tones easily distinguishable as he drew closer. Though the words were still unclear, James would have put money on Becker wallowing in self-recrimination while Jess tried to cheer him up. He paused just in the entrance and watched them, Becker slumped tiredly against the table, Jess standing to the side with her large eyes fixed on him.

"You saved two people as well," Jess was saying, earnestly. She did everything so _earnestly. _She was so… adorable, it was sickening.

James came to the sudden realisation that he had been a fool. What an absolute idiot he had been. He turned to go, but Becker must have caught sight of him over Jess' shoulder. "Lester," he called.

Jess spun around. "Lester!" She flushed as though she had been caught doing something inappropriate.

James tried to appear as though he knew exactly what he was doing. "Oh, am I interrupting?"

"Not at all, I- I was just leaving." With one last glance at Becker, Jess walked out.

As James moved casually closer to Becker, Becker pushed himself away from the table to stand upright. Even the smallest movement rang with the effort it took. "Did you come to check I was alright? How sweet of you, Lester."

"Now that would be overkill when we have charming little Jess to take care of that, don't you think?"

"Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

Becker chuckled. Damn him, James thought. It used to be that people around here took James Lester seriously. "Don't worry about Jess. She's lovely, but can you imagine me and her? She'd drive me up a wall in a day with all that cheerfulness." He moved to gather up his uniform, a faint limp detectable as he went to his locker.

"Are you quite sure you're alright?" James asked before he could stop himself.

Becker shut his locker with a _clang _and gazed wonderingly at James. "You really were worried about me."

_Of course I bloody well was_, James wanted to shout, _Becker, you daft fool_. He wondered which of them was the bigger idiot. Instead he said, his voice tight, "You could have been killed."

"I'm alright," Becker said softly, reaching out to James, and before James knew it, they were kissing desperately. James' hands touched every inch of Becker he could reach, as though to reassure himself the other man was still there. Anyone could walk in and see them and James could not have cared less.

"James," Becker was murmuring, in between kisses, "James, it's okay." It should have felt insulting, Becker speaking to him as though he were comforting a small child, but it was somehow reassuring. Becker mouthed at James' ear and whispered, "I think you should take me home now."

James pulled back just enough to see Becker's face, his mouth red and wet, long lashes half-drawn. "What?"

"It's just that what I have planned would work rather better in a bed."

James' eyes flickered downward. "I doubt you're up to that sort of athletic activity at the moment."

Becker snorted. "Please. It will take a bit more than a bite on the leg to stop me. Besides, with what I have in mind, you'll be doing most of the work."

"I-" It was a rare moment that James felt himself completely at a loss for words, but this was definitely one of those times. Becker leaned in again, sucking James' earlobe between his teeth. James gasped and then he drew back. "Right then, let's go."

They exited the room side-by-side and James became aware of the fact that in his haste he hadn't checked his appearance before they left. He resisted the desire to straighten his suit and smooth back his hair, instead striding confidently through the ARC as he always did, daring anyone to speak. His hand twitched at his side with the urge to press at the small of Becker's back, possessiveness warring with lust and with protectiveness. James wondered when exactly this had all started and how he had missed it.

Connor and Abby were lingering by Jess' station, both glancing up when James and Becker came through on the way to James' office to pick up his keys. James decided he didn't like the way they were looking at Becker and him, far too considering. Perhaps he was merely being paranoid. Connor and Abby had been gone for a year, after all. How could they have any idea that his rel- that his situation with Becker might have changed slightly? Besides, James knew that he had been quite careful. Mostly.

James particularly did not care for the way Becker tossed them a wink and a wave. If anyone knew about them, clearly it was entirely Becker's fault.

* * *

Upon entering the flat, Becker did a slow circle, whistling. "Nice place you've got here, Lester. I may have to invite myself over more often."

James locked the door and put the keys away. "Bedroom's that way," he said, gesturing.

Becker waggled his eyebrows, but James would never get to hear whatever brilliant thing he had been about to say because the bane of James' existence chose that moment to make their appearance. James sighed.

The two little diictodons chattered excitedly around Becker's ankles. "Oh my God," Becker said, "you kept Sid and Nancy?" He knelt down to pat their heads, wincing as his weight shifted. "I wondered what happened to them. Connor- wait." Becker straightened, eyes narrowed. "You're the one Connor was staying with when Abby's brother was here? You're Connor's friend?"

"Don't be ridiculous," James said, but a sinking feeling in his stomach told him his secret was out. "Why would I let Temple stay here? Do I look like I'm running a charity?" The diictodons, already bored with the new arrival, wandered over to James and started butting familiarly against his shins, cooing. James sighed again. The blasted traitors. "For Christ's sake, he was living in the ARC. It was a health hazard, not to mention pathetic."

Becker was smiling at him, a soft smile James wasn't sure he had ever seen before. "Of course. It was merely the practical thing to do." He glanced down at the diictodons and back up at James, his eyes twinkling. "But you kept Sid and Nancy. Connor was gone, and you kept them. You could've brought them to the ARC, but you didn't. Who knew, James? You do have a heart."

James stalked toward Becker, holding his gaze, stopping when they were only a breath apart. "If you tell anyone," he murmured, "I'll have you fired, disgraced, and possibly killed." James curled a hand behind Becker's neck, swallowing his reply in a bruising kiss.

They left their clothes littered on the floor in a trail leading to the bedroom, James firmly not thinking about what the diictodons might get up to with such a promising collection of items left blatantly out in the open. Becker felt a little stiff in James' arms, no doubt due to his injury, and so James did most of the undressing.

Wasting no time, Becker sprawled on his back in the bed, pulling James down on top of him. James did his best to avoid jostling or putting any pressure on Becker's injured leg but wasn't sure how well he was succeeding. In any case, Becker didn't seem to have any complaints. He scraped his blunt nails down James' back while James trailed his tongue over Becker's collarbone, down to his shoulder, pausing to suck the small tattoo.

Becker ground their hips together, using his hands on James' arse to get just the angle he wanted, and they both moaned. James watched Becker's face, liking the way Becker was so focused upon him and him alone, and traced his finger over Becker's lips. Becker turned his head to the side, sucking James' fingers into his mouth. "Becker," James said, in a tone that was distressingly close to a whimper.

James' fingers slid out of Becker's mouth with a wet pop and Becker looked up at James, his brown eyes large and dark. "I want you to fuck me now, James."

James only just managed to suppress the embarrassing groan that threatened to burst out of him at the mental image this produced; the low, throaty sound of Becker's voice and the simple fact that Becker of all people was spread out in James' bed, asking- or was it demanding?- James to fuck him.

"Please," Becker said, arching his hips up, and it was the 'please' that did it. James fumbled in the bedside table until he found a condom and a small bottle of lubricant before kneeling again over Becker. He spared a moment to think about being noble, to ask whether Becker was sure and all that, but then decided that Becker was a grown man and well able to decide what he wanted for himself.

With a small huff of impatience, Becker grabbed the condom and rolled it onto James' penis, dexterous fingers lingering at the base, and James had to take slow, deep breaths to stop from humiliating himself. He coated his fingers with the lubricant, spilling some in his haste. Becker was smirking slightly, damn him, so James forwent ceremony and just slid one finger into Becker, making him gasp. James slowly worked in one finger, then two, watching Becker pant and writhe. By the time James got to three fingers, Becker was swearing and entreating James to just fuck him already.

As James wasn't sure he could hold himself back anymore anyway, he removed his fingers, Becker making a little whine of displeasure at the loss. James positioned himself at Becker's entrance, meeting Becker's eyes, and realised how rare this must be, Becker on his back and submissive. Well, as submissive as Becker could be, anyway. He pushed in with a grunt, determined to savor every second of it.

Becker hissed when his leg jarred, and careful as James attempted to be, there was no doing this without some discomfort. Becker had perhaps been foolish in wanting to do this now, underestimating the severity of his condition, but then, James hadn't exactly offered up much of a protest.

He started slowly, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting in again, finding the right angle that made Becker gasp. "God damn it, James," Becker said, "I'm not a fucking doll, get on with it!"

James found himself smiling and quickened his pace, thrusting harder till Becker was reduced to inarticulate whimpering. He leaned forward for a deep kiss and then wrapped his fingers around Becker's hand on his own dick, pumping in rhythm with his thrusts.

Becker came with a moan that might have been James' name, his back arching off the bed and muscles clenching. James buried his face in the join between Becker's neck and shoulder, murmuring nonsense, _Becker, God, yes, love you, Becker, _Becker's hands skimming up and down his back, squeezing his arse, and then James was coming, biting down on Becker's skin to stay quiet. Becker trailed the fingers of one hand in soothing circles through the hair at the nape of James' neck.

It was only as he laid there, breath slowing, that he realised what he had said. Fuck. Had those words actually come out of his mouth, sex-high or not? Perhaps he had imagined it. Becker must not have noticed, at least, or surely he would be gloating right about now. James thanked his luck.

When the stickiness between his body and Becker's became too much to bear, James forced himself up and off the bed, into the bathroom to collect a damp towel. After he had cleaned them up, James lay back on the bed, arm curved up over his forehead, facing the ceiling but watching Becker through his peripheral vision. Becker shifted closer and James said, "Oh God, you don't want to cuddle, do you? You're not one of those?"

Becker's laugh was warm and fond. "Would you rather we fucked and then slept in separate beds? That would suit you, wouldn't it?" He moved closer still and rested his head on James' shoulder, his hand curling onto James' chest, over his heartbeat. James breathed out and thought that maybe this would be alright. Maybe he could do this.

"I love you, too, James," Becker said, his sleep-edged voice still managing to maintain a hint of smugness.

James closed his eyes, his fingers stroking through Becker's soft hair.

_**End**_

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